Halloween
by The Lionhearted Phoenix
Summary: Remus learns of James and Lily's death.


**A/N: Written for the Hogwarts Life Challenge, Stage Four, Part I. Prompt: _Write something in the angst, hurt/comfort, and/or tragedy genre._**

 **Halloween**

 _31 October 1981_

Remus sat by the fireplace in his flat, the warm, crackling flames casting dancing shadows across the opposite wall. It was nearing midnight; the sky outside had turned an inky black, clouds obscuring any light from the stars or the moon. A cold wind whistled past, making the windows rattle and the ceiling creak.

Remus had never liked Halloween. The Muggle children he had grown up around had often forgone trick-or-treating, instead gathering under the moon and exchanging tales of werewolves, savage creatures who attacked children and tore them limb from limb. He remembered those stories month after month as he was locked in the basement and scratched at his own skin to keep himself from becoming what they all thought he was: a monster.

It had all changed, of course, when he was eleven. Now Halloween held memories of golden feasts under a stormy sky, of laughter and delight, of the faces of four people who weren't afraid to share their lives with a werewolf, who were, in fact, happy to. He pictured them now, seeing them in his mind's eye: Sirius, Peter, James, Lily.

He missed them deeply. The five of them (six including little Harry) hadn't been able to spend much time together since the Potters had gone into hiding. James and Lily were focused on raising Harry and keeping out of danger. Sirius was busy with the Order, running missions as often as he could. Remus himself was often asked to spy on other werewolves, werewolves he could possibly convince to turn away from Voldemort. And Peter…well, Peter had withdrawn lately. Remus suspected he was becoming more and more afraid of Voldemort as he grew in power, and wanted little to do with the resistance. Remus couldn't blame him, really. He was afraid, too, after all.

He gazed into the fire. Something about tonight was making it difficult to sleep. Perhaps it was that the full moon was drawing near, and it was making him restless. Perhaps it was that tomorrow he would have to infiltrate a werewolf den and convince them that he was on their side, the side that murdered innocents without a second thought. Whatever it was, he felt unsettled and wary, as if he were waiting for an axe to drop.

The clock struck midnight; as if on cue, there was a tapping at the window. Remus glanced up. An owl perched on the sill outside, feathers rising up in every direction as another gust of wind whirled past. Remus pushed himself up and went to open the window. The owl hopped inside and stuck out its leg, to which a folded piece of parchment was attached. Remus untied the letter and the owl gave a plaintive hoot before leaping back out the window and stretching its wings, coasting off into the night.

Closing the window, Remus turned away and unfolded the letter, moving forward to read it by the light of the fire. A familiar script looped its way across the page.

 _Remus,_

 _I am sorry to be the one to tell you this. Tonight there was an attack on Godric's Hollow. Voldemort found the Potters' hiding place. Remus — James and Lily are dead._

 _Harry survived. I believe Lily sacrificed herself to save him, and in doing so protected him from harm. Voldemort could not kill him — his curse backfired upon himself. He has disappeared, to where I am not sure, but for now he is severely weakened. I will ensure that Harry is safe and cared for. He will have the utmost protection._

 _Remus, I am so very sorry. I know James and Lily were like family to you. But I do not think I need to tell you how Voldemort discovered where they were. I am fearful for your safety — keep yourself out of danger, and do not confront Sirius. I do not think he would hesitate to betray you, as well._

 _If I can offer you one shred of solace, it is this: Voldemort is gone. James and Lily's sacrifice was not in vain. And if Voldemort does rise again — we will be ready for him._

 _Yours,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

Remus's hands were shaking; the letter slipped from his fingers and fluttered through the air, flying straight into the fire. He lunged for it, but it was too late; the flames consumed it, illuminating the words as they burned. He caught sight of a single line: _James and Lily are dead_.

Something in him broke; he crumpled to his knees, sobbing. His nails dug into the carpet, cracking as he clawed at it, but he hardly felt the pain. He didn't care — how could he care, how could he think about something so trivial when James and Lily were _dead_ , James and Lily had died, their bodies lay cold on the floor of their house while Remus's was warmed by the fire, by the blood that trickled down his fingertips, blood pumped by a steady, beating heart that reminded him with every throb, _I am alive, I am alive._

 _And they are dead._

Slowly, the tears stopped coming. Remus lay on the floor, staring out at nothing. He felt numb. He didn't think he could stand, didn't think his legs would support him. And anyway, he didn't want to get up. Could he lie here forever, frozen in this moment, so he wouldn't have to go on without them?

And suddenly, his mind was barraged with memories. James, grinning at him across the room, tossing a pillow at him to wake him up. Lily, laughing as she snatched her homework away from him, refusing to let him check his answers. Both of them sitting in bed, cradling a newborn. A stag watching from the corner of the room, protecting him from himself. A silver doe cantering across the room, lighting up the darkness. Shrewd hazel eyes, a curtain of red hair.

A memory swam to the forefront of his mind. It was Christmas; they were gathered in the boys' dormitory, exchanging presents.

 _"What the hell is this supposed to be?" Lily demanded, holding up a mess of silver chain and metal pieces._

 _"It must have gotten tangled in the packaging," said Sirius, lounging on his bed. "Go on, then, untangle it."_

 _She worked at it with her fingers, eventually pulling it apart into a long chain from which letters dangled. "SIRIUS!" she said, outraged. "'Nice arse'?!"_

 _"Well, thank you, I think so, too," said Sirius, grinning as he patted his rear end._

 _"Looks like I got one, too," said James, holding up his own necklace. "Sirius, mate, I know my arse is brilliant, but I fail to see why I would need a necklace to announce it."_

 _"They're a_ couples _gift," said Sirius patiently. "Now everyone will know that your arses are together."_

 _"That makes no sense," said Peter, unwrapping a patterned scarf from James. "How does announcing that each of them has a nice arse make it clear that they're a couple?"_

 _"Because…they're matching?" said Sirius hopefully._

 _"Why can't you just get me books, like Remus does?" said Lily, throwing the necklace at Sirius. He ducked._

 _"I thought you'd_ like _it!" he protested. "Your arse is pretty nice, you know."_

 _"Oi," said James. "Hands off my girlfriend's arse."_

 _"Please," Sirius snorted. "You know I've got my eye on Pettigrew's, anyway."_

 _Peter turned bright red and spluttered. They all burst into laughter as snow drifted gently past the window._

Hot anger rushed through Remus suddenly. Had Sirius known, even then, that he would betray James and Lily? Had he thought about them as he turned them in to Voldemort? Had he remembered this moment, when they were happy and in love, and cast it aside, thinking only of himself? Had he ever really cared about them? Any of them?

Remus was on his feet before he fully registered it. He strode to the opposite side of the room, snatching up his wand. Dumbledore's words echoed in his head: _Do not confront Sirius. I do not think he would hesitate to betray you, as well._

But he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if Sirius wanted to betray him, because Remus would kill him first, murder him where he stood, destroy him for killing their friends.

He turned on the spot, concentrating hard even as anger roiled inside him. His flat dissolved; he felt the familiar pressure of Apparition, and reappeared moments later.

The room was quiet. Here the clouds were less dense, and tendrils of moonlight floated through the window, illuminating the space. Sirius's coat hung from its peg, shoes were scattered across the floor, a chair at the table had been overturned. Had he fled?

Despair shot through Remus like an arrow. _No_ , he thought desperately. _He can't be gone_. He shouted out into the flat: "SIRIUS!"

There was no response.

 _"SIRIUS BLACK!"_

He was met with silence. He threw his head back and screamed, his voice shattering the quiet, clawing its way out of his throat, burning in his lungs. A jet of red light shot out of the end of his wand, scorching the wood floor.

His voice cracked; the scream dissipated in the air, dissolving into sobs. For a long moment, Remus stood in Sirius's flat, tears streaming down his face, body shaking so hard that his vision blurred.

 _I will never forgive you,_ he thought. _You were my friend. I loved you. I will never forgive you. I hate you. I will kill you. I will tear you, limb from limb_.

In his mind, he saw a shaggy black dog, running through the forest, barking with delight, and he was running alongside it, feeling the wind against his own fur. In his mind, he saw it curled up next to him as his body screamed under a full, bright moon, silently reassuring him that it would stay, as long as he needed.

But Sirius Black was gone. And Remus was alone.


End file.
